


Break Your Heart

by annabeth



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Angst, Broken marriage, Cheating, Infidelity, JJBella, M/M, Pliroy, break ups, mentioned smut, yuri is seventeen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12712893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/annabeth
Summary: Congratulations, you tore my heart out.





	Break Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blownwish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/gifts), [Ashii Black (ashiiblack)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashiiblack/gifts).



> Title from Barenaked Ladies; summary is from Rachel Platten. I blame [Blownwish](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blownwish) and [Ashii Black](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ashiiblack) for making me want to write Pliroy again. (I only sort of ship it, so.)

"Come back." JJ knows what he must sound like, almost a whine. "Come back. Please."

But Yuri just keeps throwing clothes into a suitcase. He's so beautiful even now, with angry color risen in his cheeks and his blond hair flyaway with static. He might be even _more_ beautiful like this, though it makes JJ's heart sizzle with pain just to think of it. What can he do? He's done all he can. Still…

"Yuri, please. Talk to me."

"You didn't leave her," Yuri says, in a tight, angry voice. "You promised me, JJ, you said that was _over_." He stops, as if he can't bear to speak another word in JJ's presence.

"I'm here, with you, Yuri." JJ can't bear it. He reaches for that blond hair, for the slender shoulder blades. Yuri might be seventeen now, but he's never going to grow out of that frame he had when he was fifteen, back when he was just barely growing up. JJ remembers how badly he wanted Yuri back then. How he'd been so stupid about trying to get his attention; infuriating him instead of enticing him.

He remembers cold nights on his knees in a chapel in a strange city, trying to pray away his desire for someone he could never, ever have.

JJ stares at that figure, with all its willowy, lithe strength, and he misses him so acutely it hurts in every muscle, like training too hard. Like waking up the next morning and knowing he'd torn his muscles by working too hard. Now he's trying too hard, again. And his emotional muscles are tearing themselves to shreds.

Yuri turns, his suitcase zipped. He sees JJ's hand; he slaps it away from him, and not gently, either.

"You're a fucking liar," Yuri says. "An untrustworthy asshole. I don't need that shit in my life."

How did it come to this? When had Yuri matured? Or had he always been like this: abrasive but with an edge of intelligence that people overlooked because he was an angry teenager? Had JJ overlooked it too?

"I didn't lie to you," JJ says desperately. His arm is outstretched again, but Yuri evades him neatly and walks to the bedroom door. "I didn't, Yuri. I don't sleep with her. I don't _live_ with her."

"But you never told her the truth about me, either, did you?" For one second, Yuri pauses on the threshold. JJ thinks it's because he's reconsidering. But he's not. His next words show JJ how wrong he is. "Do you have any idea— _any idea_ —how humiliating it is to run into Isabella in town, to have her smile at me?"

"You see her all the time," JJ says. "She comes to the rink every day."

"Yes, but this time her smile was poison. She came up to me, and she said: 'I know you're fucking my husband.'" Yuri's glare is poison. "She knows, JJ. But you know what _I_ didn't know?" He gives JJ only the barest chance to think about it. "When did you marry her, JJ?"

Well, shit, now he's caught. He never thought Yuri would find out—no, he never thought _Izzy_ would find out. Izzy had no reason to think he was stepping out on her with Yuri Plisetsky. He'd told her—months ago—that he was in love with someone else. He doesn't believe in divorce, and JJ knows this is just as bad, but he'd said he was going to live a separate life from her.

He just didn't tell her he was going to fuck that other person. The problem is, he didn't mean for _any_ of this to happen. When JJ walked out that door, turned his back on his marriage, all he'd meant to do was become a man of God, a servant to his faith. He'd meant to love Yuri from afar and never, ever touch him.

He did two of those things. He became a man of God, a servant to his faith. He couldn't become a priest, because he was already married, but he'd intended to be celibate for the rest of his life. Then he'd run into Yuri at his church—Yuri was donating some old figure skating gear, and a pair of brand-new hockey skates he'd said he'd gotten as a child but never used. _Never liked hockey_ , he'd said in JJ's hearing. JJ had felt a part of himself quiver, like how could anyone not like hockey? And Yuri was from Russia, he came from a place where hockey was important, too.

But Yuri was here, in Montreal, and though JJ didn't know, at the time, that he'd moved his training rink, he'd wound up tapping Yuri on the shoulder, at the church.

"Yuri-chan!" he'd said, and Yuri had turned. But the customary glare was absent; seventeen-year-old Yuri seemed to have mellowed—just a bit.

"Oh my God," he'd said with a roll of his eyes. "JJ Leroy. Please, for the love of your God, don't call me that."

"I—yeah, I'm sorry," JJ'd said. "It's really great to see you, Yuri."

Yuri was dressed for summer. He wore tight skinny jeans—just like always—and a light pink sleeveless t-shirt that hugged his muscles and displayed his toned biceps. He was so beautiful. His green eyes had been almost soft as he regarded JJ. Maybe that's why JJ had said it.

"Come to dinner with me." It was just supposed to be an innocent invitation. It wasn't supposed to end up in his living room, on the rug in front of the fire, with Yuri's tongue in his mouth and his hand in Yuri's underwear, wrapped around a length of cock he'd seen before—of course he had—but he'd never imagined he'd get to _touch_.

That night had ended with a promise and another invitation: "I'll break up with Izzy for you. Please come live with me."

He hadn't told Yuri he was married. Is married. Hadn't told Yuri that she didn't live with him anymore, anyway. And Yuri had been complaining of the cheap, rat-infested apartment that was all he could find on short notice, and shit, if he saw one more fucking cockroach—

So he'd said yes.

And now here they are, and Yuri is saying no. JJ hates the word no. It reminds him of growing up, and being told that every fun thing he might want to do is forbidden by his religion. No video games on Sunday. No kissing the cheerleaders—which had only ever meant Izzy—behind the bleachers. No masturbating—especially not that.

No, no, no.

Just a few short years later, he'd had Yuri on his back, saying yes, yes, _yes_.

He can't lose this. It's his sanity. His hope. Every dream he's ever had, wrapped up in green eyes and blond hair and pink, creamy skin.

He doesn't really think about it; one moment he's watching Yuri walk away, and the next he's tackling him to the floor. It's clumsy, because he never played football, too much chance of an injury that could take him away from skating.

"What the fuck, asshole?" Yuri yells, elbowing him hard in the gut. JJ sees stars and kinda wants to throw up for a second, but he recovers and pins Yuri to the floor, the suitcase gone flying, split open and Yuri's stupid cute clothes everywhere. There's a hairpin rolling across the floor and all of a sudden JJ can see how this all ends. It ends here, with JJ being the idiot that tries to force something that needs to be coaxed. Tries to grab something that needs to be set free.

"I'm sorry, oh my goodness, I'm sorry," JJ babbles, but he can't let him go. _He can't let Yuri go_.

He grips Yuri's wrists and yanks them over his head. He lowers his own and licks across Yuri's lip and Yuri, probably too stunned to retaliate, doesn't try to bite his tongue off.

"Fuck, let me _go_ ," Yuri snarls. "When did you marry her, JJ? _When_?"

"I was always married," JJ says wretchedly. "I was married when I made love to you for the first time. I love you. God, _God_ , Yuri, I _love you_. I love you so much, and I have for so long. I can't live without you."

"Well, you're going to have to, asshole," Yuri says, struggling. "You gonna fuck me now? You gonna take what you want, big boy? Be that man who just ignores what I want and—does rape turn you on, Jean-Jacques?"

JJ blanches and lets go. He can't quite let Yuri up though, not yet. So they stare at each other, Yuri's eyes spitting green sparks, all the softness burned away by fury. Yuri raises his hands, and then they're cupping JJ's face, just for a moment. Just long enough to make JJ think he's going to give in and kiss him. But that's just before he tilts JJ's head, and rakes his nails down the side of JJ's face. JJ hisses in pain and tears well up.

"What are you doing?" he asks in disbelief. "I didn't think you'd ever hurt me—"

"You hurt _me_ ," Yuri says. "Consider it payback. Get _off_ me, you fucker."

And JJ rolls off. The last he sees of Yuri is a tear rolling down that porcelain cheek, and his arms full of clothes that will no longer stay in his suitcase.

The door slams shut and JJ picks himself up off the floor. He goes to the bathroom mirror and stares at the red, bloody welts Yuri left behind. He can see, in the reflection, Yuri's clothes still strewn across the floor.

Apparently Yuri hates him so much now that he's willing to leave behind all of his things just to get away.

Yuri can't possibly hate JJ as much as he hates himself.

end.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me (helm-puppet-trash) on [Tumblr](http://helm-puppet-trash.tumblr.com)!


End file.
